Los Angeles | 2009
Bradley's POV
I walked out of the school with a satisfied smile on my face. I had achieved my goals for the day, the prime among them being making the team as Point Guard for Northwood. I looked around for my military detail and their vehicle, but I couldn't spot them. Well, what do you know, soldiers running late. That rarely happens. I found an empty bench by the sidewalk and decided that was as good a spot as any to wait. I didn't have a phone yet, which seems more and more a need these days than a luxury. Note to self: ask Mom for a smartphone.
I still had a power bar in my bag, so I took it out and began eating. Just as I was finishing, a silver minivan pulled up to the curb and stopped directly in front of me. The passenger-side window hummed as it lowered, revealing Alex sitting in the front seat, a book already open on her lap.
"Need a ride?" Claire Dunphy asked from the driver's seat, leaning over with a friendly smile.
"Oh, hi, Mrs. Dunphy," I said, a little surprised. "My ride is just running a few minutes late. I should be fine."
"Nonsense," Claire insisted, already pushing a button to unlock the sliding door. "It's no trouble at all. We can take you home. I'm dropping Alex off and then I have to go over to my dad's place anyway, so you're right on the way."
Alex looked up from her book. "It's more efficient this way," she said, as if stating a scientific fact. "Accepting the ride will save you an indeterminate amount of waiting time."
I couldn't help but chuckle at her pragmatic viewpoint. "Well, when you put it like that," I said, grabbing my bags. "I'd be happy to accept. Thanks."
I slid the van door open and hopped in, the familiar scent of a family car—a mix of old snacks and air freshener—washing over me.
"So, how was school today, honey?" Claire asked, glancing at Alex in the passenger seat.
"Fine," Alex replied, her eyes not moving from the page of her book.
"Just fine? Did anything interesting happen? How was the algebra test?"
"It was fine. I aced it, obviously," she said with a slight shrug.
Claire sighed, a familiar sound of maternal frustration. I could see her grip tighten on the steering wheel for a second. "Okay, then." She changed tactics, her eyes finding me in the rearview mirror. "How about you, Bradley? How was your first day at Northwood? Was it overwhelming?"
"It was great, Mrs. Dunphy, thanks for asking!" I said, leaning forward slightly. "The classes were a little slow, to be honest, but I found a way to make it fun. Alex and I had a running chess match going in my notebook through geography and science. She's really good, by the way. Almost had me in the last period."
I saw Alex's head snap up from her book, her eyes wide with a panicked, deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Claire's head whipped back towards her daughter, a slow, mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oh, really?" she said, her voice laced with amusement. "A chess match? During class? Alex Dunphy, front-row star student, doodling in her notebook instead of paying attention? This is a new development."
Before the interrogation could escalate, I chimed in. "Well, I forgot to thank Alex for helping me find my way around school today. You have a very diligent and curious daughter, Mrs. Dunphy."
"Oh, aren't you a charmer, Bradley," Claire said, a twinkle in her eye as she glanced at Alex. "I'm sure Alex would be happy to help you in the future as well, won't you, honey?"
"Of course," Alex stated, recovering quickly and adopting an air of feigned nonchalance. "There is no harm in helping a fellow classmate."
A fifteen-minute drive later we reached the Dunphy residence.
As Claire pulled the minivan into the driveway, she let out a small sigh. "Alright, home sweet home. Thanks for the company, Bradley."
"No problem, Mrs. Dunphy. Let me help you with these," I said, hopping out and grabbing two heavy-looking grocery bags from the trunk before she could protest.
We had just set foot on the lawn when the quiet suburban street was shattered by the shriek of sirens. Four imposing black SUVs screeched to a halt, boxing us in. Doors flew open and a dozen agents in sharp black suits scattered out, weapons drawn, their movements precise and economical.
"Ma'am, step away from the boy! Now!" an agent yelled, his handgun aimed low and steady.
Claire froze, her face a mask of terror and confusion. The grocery bags she was holding dropped to the ground, oranges and a carton of milk tumbling across the grass. Her hands shot up into the air. "Okay! Okay! Don't shoot! He's just a kid from school!"
I remained calm as a lead agent approached me, his eyes scanning our surroundings. He quickly patted me down, then spoke into his wrist communicator. "Hooper is secured. Stand by."
I let out a breath. "It's okay," I said to the agent, my voice steady. "My regular pickup was late. I hitched a ride with Mrs. Dunphy. She's a family friend; she lives across the street from my father, General Naird."
The agent's expression didn't change, but he relayed the information. After a moment of crackling radio chatter, he nodded and handed me a satellite phone. "The General for you, sir."
"Dad?" I said into the phone.
"Brad, are you alright? What happened?" Dad's voice was tight with controlled urgency.
"I'm fine, Dad. The detail was late, and Mrs. Dunphy offered me a ride. It was just a misunderstanding." I explained the whole situation, from the missed pickup to Mrs Dunphy offering a ride.
As I was talking, I saw the entire Dunphy clan had assembled on their front porch, wide-eyed and bewildered. Phil was on the edge of the lawn, trying to talk to one of the other agents, his hands gesturing in his classic, placating way.
After finishing the call, I handed the phone back to the lead agent, who gave a signal. Within seconds, the agents holstered their weapons, got back into the SUVs, and drove off as quickly as they had arrived, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. One vehicle stayed to take me back home, I signalled for them to wait.
I turned to face the Dunphys, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I am so, so sorry about that," I said, walking towards them and helping a still-shaken Claire pick up the scattered groceries. "I have my own protection detail. They usually just keep an eye on me from a distance, just in case… well, in case someone tries to kidnap me. My dad's job… it comes with risks. Today was entirely a misunderstanding. I should have found a way to let them know."
Claire, taking a deep, shaky breath, managed a weak smile. "It's… it's okay, Bradley. You just don't expect to see men with guns next to the azaleas. I'm just a little shaken up, I'll be fine."
Phil rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, honey. See? Just a big misunderstanding. We're all safe."
Luke, however, seemed to have missed the memo on fear. He walked up to me, his eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa. Are those guys, like, real spies? Do you think one of them would let me shoot his gun if I asked nicely?"
"Luke!" Claire and Phil yelped in unison.
Alex, rolling her eyes at her brother's comment, moved to her mom's other side, offering a comforting hand.
My attention was drawn to Haley, who was standing slightly apart from the group, her phone held up, shamelessly taking pictures of the whole scene. One of the agents—the only one who hadn't left, clearly my new ride—walked calmly over to her.
"Ma'am," he said, his voice polite but firm. "I'm going to need you to hand over your phone."
Haley scoffed, lowering her phone. "Um, no? This is, like, my property. And this is going to get a million likes."
The agent's expression didn't change. "Ma'am, I need you to delete the pictures you just took. It's a matter of security protocol."
"Haley, for the love of God, do not start a fight with the government!" Phil said, rushing over, his voice a strained whisper. "Give the nice man who didn't shoot us your phone!"
With a dramatic, put-upon sigh, Haley handed the phone to the agent. He expertly navigated the screen, deleted the photos, and handed it back to her.
I felt my face flush again. "Really, I'm so sorry for all this," I said to the Dunphys.
The agent placed a hand on my shoulder. "Time to go, sir."
I gave them one last, apologetic look before turning and heading towards the waiting SUV, leaving the Dunphy family standing on their lawn amidst a carton of spilled milk and a profound sense of bewilderment.
The entire way back, I could only think of how I had screwed up so badly and how I needed to fix this. I just hoped Claire wouldn't hold it against me, even though it was a mistake I could have avoided. As we returned home, I dashed straight to my room and closed the door. I needed some peace. I crashed onto my bed and just lay there, running the entire ordeal over and over again in my head. I should have been more careful.
There was a knock on my door then. "Brad, honey, are you in there?"
"Yeah Mom, I'm here. Come on in," I answered.
The door opened, and Mom walked in, her expression a mixture of concern and lingering stress. She sat on the edge of my bed. "Are you okay? That was… a lot to handle."
"I'm fine," I mumbled into my pillow.
Her tone shifted, a new sharpness entering her voice. "You're fine? Bradley, what you did was incredibly irresponsible. You know the protocol. You wait for your detail, no matter what. Hitching a ride, even with a neighbour, is a massive security breach. Do you have any idea the panic you caused? Your father had to leave a briefing with a three-star general. This doesn't just reflect on you; it reflects on him."
Her words felt like an attack, and a surge of irritation washed over me. I sat up, my own voice louder than I intended. "Well, maybe if I had a phone, none of this would have happened! I could have just called the detail to ask where they were, or called you or Dad to let you know I was getting a ride. But no, you and Dad have to be such disciplinarians about it, worried I'll get lost on social media or something."
Maggie's face hardened. "You watch your tone, Bradley. You know exactly why we are cautious. The sensitive nature of our jobs means we can't just hand our eleven-year-old son a smartphone without extensive security measures. There are dangers you don't understand." She paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Her anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a weary resignation. "But you're right. Not giving you a secure way to communicate was a mistake. An oversight. It's one I will correct."
She stood up, her expression still stern. "That doesn't excuse your attitude, however. I'm still very angry with how you are behaving. When you've calmed down and are ready to talk about this without shouting, you can come find me."
She walked out, closing the door softly behind her, leaving me alone with my frustration and the heavy silence.
I sat there for a long time, a little miffed, but also deeply self-contemplating as I replayed my outburst. After some introspection, I realized I was indeed behaving differently. Before coming to California, my life was a closed loop—family, school, basketball. I was always diligent, always in control, and never acted contrary to my parents' expectations because nothing truly mattered enough to disrupt the status quo.
But now... now things were different. I was genuinely excited, not just about my own potential, but about the world opening up around me. I had met the Modern Family characters, people I was thrilled to get to know. I had a real friend in Alex. For the first time, I was living a life beyond just my family and basketball, and it was making me act more... human. Emotions that had been deep-seated for years, muted by a cynical and closed-off attitude, were now bubbling to the surface. A small smile spread across my face at the realization.
Making my way downstairs, I found Mom and Dad sitting in the living room, talking quietly. Dad must have just gotten home. I hesitated in the doorway, and as I stepped in, their conversation stopped. Dad looked up, his eyes a mixture of sternness and concern.
"Mom, Dad," I started, my voice quiet. "I'm sorry. For my outburst earlier."
I walked over, standing before them. "I… I really like my life here. The school, the team, the relationships I'm starting to build with people… To see all of that get tangled up in a misunderstanding today; to think I might have messed it up… it scared me. And I lashed out. It wasn't fair to you."
Mom's expression softened completely. She reached out and pulled me into a hug. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry, too. It wasn't right of me to reprimand you like that, not after what happened." She pulled back, looking at me and then at Dad. "You've always been such a perfect child for us, Bradley. So mature and responsible that we never really needed to… parent you much. I think it made us complacent. Today was the first time in a long while we saw you as just a kid, a scared and frustrated one, and I think we were caught so unaware that we reacted poorly."
Dad let out a long sigh, the last of the general's sternness leaving his face. He put a hand on my shoulder. "Your mom's right. We were all on edge. We're a team, Brad. And we're all still figuring this out. We'll get you that secure phone tomorrow."
I nodded, "Thank you"
…
The next day at school, I was on edge. I found Alex by her locker before first period.
"Hey," I started, a bit awkwardly. "Listen, about yesterday… I'm really sorry about the whole… black-SUVs-and-agents thing."
Alex closed her locker and turned to me, adjusting her glasses. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "My dad once got tackled by a mascot at a football game. A few guys in suits is practically normal for us. We're fine."
"Are you sure?" I pressed. "It was a huge mess."
"Bradley," she said, looking me straight in the eye. "My brother got his head stuck in a bannister. My sister tried to text and drive a Power Wheels Jeep. A visit from a General's security detail barely makes the top five weirdest things to happen at my house. We're good."
Her slightly absurd reassurance was exactly what I needed to hear.
After school, I made a point of going over to the Dunphy house to apologize to Claire one more time. She answered the door and immediately waved away my concerns.
"Bradley, stop it," she said with a warm smile. "It's all water under the bridge. Honestly, I'm just happy Alex has found a friend she actually seems to like. You are welcome at our home anytime, you hear me? Just… maybe try and use the doorbell instead of the sirens next time."
The rest of the week passed leisurely for me, falling into a comfortable new rhythm between school, family, and practice. I was becoming fast friends with my teammates, especially David and Leo. Our on-court chemistry, built on my passes and their execution, was translating into an easy camaraderie off the court. We'd talk about everything from NBA stats to a history test we had coming up. They were good guys, and for the first time since moving, I felt like I was part of a real team again.
On Friday, as we were leaving practice, I turned to them. "Hey, you guys want to come over and practice at my place tomorrow? I've got my own court."
Their eyes went wide. "Seriously?" David asked. "Like, a real court?"
"Yeah, hardwood floor and everything," I said with a grin.
"Dude, we are so there," Leo said, his usual intense expression breaking into a rare, excited smile.